Something Changed
by coolcrystal
Summary: Adam makes Carly choose between being his girlfriend and being Sam's friend. How does Sam react? And how does she really feel for Carly? One-Sided Cam, hinted Seddie. Preview only, not full story.
1. Preview

**This is a preview of a story idea I had called **_**Something Changed**_**, but I haven't decided whether or not I'm going to make it a full story yet. Basically, Sam has more than friendship feelings for Carly while Carly has a boyfriend, and Freddie is Sam's friend with benefits. I hope this is good so far, and please tell me what I can do better and if I should continue. The scene I wrote here isn't the beginning or end of the story, but the central event itself. **

**Thanks :) **

**P.S. I'm not Dan Schneider **

"Carly, I know." I said it so low, so light; I doubted she could hear me. Snow dripped lightly on my black jacket, hands in pockets. Light reflected off the street, glistening with melted snow. We were alone except for the few cars that passed. We hadn't spoken in a while, Carly and I. She was probably deep in thought, not noticing how close I stood next to her.

She let out a deep sigh, breath visible in the night air. "There's nothing to know, Sam. Adam's making me chose between being your friend and being his girlfriend, and you already knew that. It's as simple as that." Carly bit her lip, I could feel her nervous energy radiate off her.

I stopped in my tracks. My eyes grabbed hers, and she fought to tug away from my intensity. Her pink cheeks, her shiny glossed lips, her deep brown eyes, all of her fought for an escape route, but I wouldn't have it. "I know, Carls," when she didn't say anything, I continued, "You love Adam with all your heart. More than Freddie. More than me – no, don't try protesting. It's true, you've thought about it before in the back of your mind. You love the way he feels, the way he talks, the way he loves you, everything. He makes you happy. I want you to be happy. I'll be sad if you chose him, of course, but I understand it. I would feel the same way if I were you. I know because I love you too. Go ahead, Carly girl."

"Oh, Sam," Carly breathed, tears spilling out of her eyes and falling down her face. She didn't try to swipe them away, though they must have stung in the frigid air. "Sam, Sam, Sam." She held me, my body fire, hers ice.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too, Sam." It was not a joke this time, not something written between the lines. We loved each other, friends or something more questionable, it didn't matter.

Carly stood still for a few more moments, seemingly stuck in a dream, or just savoring the moment. "Walk me to my apartment?"

My mind instantly thought no, because the more time I spent with her the more painful it would be to say goodbye, but I had to go with her. I had to. It would go against my nature not to. "Yes," I said.

She smiled sadly, the scarf I gave her shaking lightly in the wind. Her arm linked through mine as we made our way to her Bushwell Plaza apartment, passing The Groovy Smoothie and other places haunted by the ghosts of our past. We were silent, grasping every memory and moment, trying to savor all. When we reached her apartment door, Carly held on to me as if I might float away, and I squeezed her twice as hard because she was the one leaving, not me.

"You're my best friend. I love you." I like how she said it again, making sure I understood. We were the same that way: never sure if someone really loved us. We needed constant reminders.

"You too, Carly. Always."

She retreated behind her door, fighting tears again, nodding and then closing the door on me.

She was Carly, my best friend, and I loved her, I wasn't sure how I loved her but I did, and you're supposed to let things you love go. And that's exactly what I did.

"Sam?" The voice of Freddie Benson pulled me back to reality. How long had I been sitting in this hallway?

"Leave me alone, Fredward," I threatened, wiping away the tears he had probably already seen.

He sighed, arms crossed across his chest, "You told Carly it's okay for her to go to Adam?"

I just nodded, afraid that if I spoke my voice would crack with sobs. It never occurred to me that Freddie, _Freddie Benson_, would ever see me cry. After all that we'd been through, all that we'd done together, I still never thought we'd make it to this sacred point: seeing me, Samantha Puckett, shed her own tears.

"Want to come inside?" His voice was caring, but I raised an eyebrow at him. "She's at the hospital still, since it's close to Christmas she's in a caring mood." Freddie smiled at me, and I felt my own lips tug into a smile involuntarily.

"That's a first," I chuckled, feeling the tears go away, but not the pain.

We made our way inside his apartment, remaining quiet even though there was really no reason to do so. I flopped onto his bed, the smell of Fredward comforting in a way I had not deemed possible. He sat next to me; eyes alive and animated with watching me relax face-down on his bed. "Want to talk about it?"

"With you? No way," I laughed. It felt so good to laugh, to have some sort of release that did not result in tears. I turned around to face him, and we laughed together. The sound of our voice gave way into another intense silence, eyes locked. "Benson?"

"Yeah?"

I kissed him, softly, so unlike the other rough times. He kissed back, mouth warm and familiar against mine, snaking his arms around my body. I tried to go further, reaching for another way to release all the pain, but Freddie saw through me.

"Not tonight, Sam. This isn't what you need," Freddie coaxed me out of it, out of letting everything go. "Just because you lost Carly doesn't mean you need to lose yourself too. Not like this."

"Ugh," I cried, thrashing at his bed and body, angry at him for wanting what's best for me. I threw at temper tantrum, pounding my fists and kicking my legs like a small child against his bed. Tears formed in my eyes again, and Freddie just watched and waited, knowing that this is how I dealt with things.

"I know you love her. I know. I don't think she knows how much though. For Christ's sake Sam, breathe!"

And breathe I did. My cheeks were red with rage, and Freddie's bed looked like it had just been bombed.

"Let's get some rest, Sam. Life will continue in the morning." Freddie climbed into bed, covering himself with the remnants of his tattered sheets. He watched me at the foot of his bed, silently asking if I was going to stay or not.

I calmed down. "You don't know that," I countered, making my way underneath the covers too. I rested my head against his chest, but he knew not to touch me. He knew he was being a friend but just being there, letting me bitch about my life and letting my love go, when other people would just throw me out. Freddie Benson had figured me out. His breathing became a soft harmony against my ear, warm and steady. Freddie would be here in the morning. Freddie would be there when I saw Carly in the hallways and started crying for no reason. Freddie would be there when I needed a punching bag. Freddie would be there when I needed a lover. Freddie would be there when I needed a friend. There were so many words to say to express that feeling, but the only thing I could say to the sleeping boy next to me was,

"Thank you," with warmth.


	2. 1: Letters

**So, I decided to continue it….just to make sure you don't get confused, this scene happens BEFORE the preview, and the story will work up to that moment (and possibly continue after). I know this is probably a slow start, but it'll pick up, so please just bear with me and give me tips on what I could be doing better :) I love hearing back from everyone! Oh, and the chapters will get longer, I promise. **

Carly and I were best friends – the best friend you hug when you're crying, the best friend you call just to say hello, the best friend you invite everywhere and have sleepovers with. Before iCarly we just spent a lot of time together, no one would call us inseparable. Afterwards, however, we stuck together like glue; I practically lived with her. That didn't change our mannerisms though, we remained normal best friends. People would watch us and not think twice about our friendship, just cross us off as two normal teenage girls who babble about boys and television and whatnot. We were _normal_ best friends; we did _normal_ activities (minus my illegal activity craze), talked about _normal_ topics, had _normal_ personal boundaries.

Then the summer before tenth grade came. As the temperature went up, and the street activity escalated, something changed. It happened right on the eve of Carly's birthday, the night of July twenty-third. I hadn't seen her in forever, she'd been busy doing summer camps with her brother, and I had wandered the streets, spending my time talking to the people on the side of the road and taking food from corner stores. Maybe it was all that time away from each other that caused that new reaction to ignite in our blood. Or maybe it was the letter that Carly wrote me.

I was lying in her room, spreading face-down on her large bed. I could smell her girly perfume even though she wasn't in the area, the smell of cotton candy and laundry detergent mixed into one. Purple and pink were normally colors I couldn't stand, but in her room they didn't seem so annoyingly girlish. She walked in; smile plastered on her face, as if someone had permanently painted it on.

"Hey, Carls," I smiled back, happy to see her again.

Sitting down on her bed beside me, she laughed, happiness uncontrollable. "It's good to see you again. I got you something."

"It's your birthday!" I protested, motioning over to the gift I had given her. It was the ultimate friend combo pack: a mountain of gummybears (paid with my own money), a Groovy Smoothie gift card (I tricked it out of T-Bo using a large stick and my sharp wit), and a book I knew she'd love about life and this depressed teenage girl who finds love (stolen).

"Still," she sighed, glancing far off to the depths of her mind, "I haven't seen you in a while…I thought I'd be nice. If it's the money you're worried about, I didn't spend anything."

My eyes lit up, a smirk curling my lips. Respect and a proud feeling began to seep through my pores. I grabbed her shoulders, looking into her eyes. "Did you _steal_ something?"

"No!" She exclaimed, but her eyes seemed amused nonetheless. "Here," she smiled, handing me a small envelope.

I shook it violently. "What's this, kid?"

"Just open it."

The moment I opened the letter, the atmosphere and mood of the room transformed. It went from being light and playful to a more deep comfort and insight, like Carly and I had entered had entered a deep, deep ocean that contained many dangers, but was too beautiful to ever want to leave. I felt as if the letter I was opening held to the secrets to my world, held everything in the universe together. Taking a deep breath, I read,

_Dear Sam, _

_It's been a while since I've seen you, because of how busy I am over the summer. I'm sorry that we can't spend more time together. To tell you the truth, I'm writing you this to say thank you. Thank you for being there for me always, and showing me a new world from the one I lived in. Since I met you I've looked at everything with new eyes, and become a better me. It's like Alaska and Pudge, I'm Pudge and you're Alaska (minus the whole sex, alcohol, death thing). I know you're a friend for life, and am looking forward to the rest of our high school years together. _

_Love always, _

_ Carly :) _

"I'm not crying," I told Carly through broken words, looking around her but not at her. She smiled that famous Shay smile. "Seriously, if you tell anyone that I'm crying, _which I'm not_, they'll be very confused when they wake up in Peru." I watched her for a few more seconds and then hugged her, something new and happy within me.

"I'm guessing you liked it," Carly smiled against my ear.

I couldn't say thank you, couldn't find words, so I just nodded. No one, no one the planet, had even shown me such love in my entire life. All my existence my mother tried, and failed, and thus stopped trying at all. That's what hurt the most: the lack of effort. My teachers classed me as a hopeless cause, not stopping to think that for a moment there was a person behind my obnoxious exterior begging to be considered a friend, to have someone to confide in. Carly was the only person to do so. That realization hit me, a ton of bricks against my chest. The world outside did not matter, the pain I used to hold within me did not matter, nothing did but this moment here, with Carly. She had referenced my favorite book, _Looking For Alaska_, and that made all the difference.

Making my way around her room, I turned on the radio, finding the most depressing station I could. Carly lay down on her bed, and I crawled next to her, our breathing making the only sound beside the dancing melodies. There was no thought, no girly chatter, just a state of being. I was Sam, she was Carly, and for the first time in our lives we didn't need to say it, or fill the deafening silence. This moment bonded us closer than we could ever imagine.

We lay in that open silence for hours, until Freddie and Gibby came over, exclaiming their arrival the minute they opened the door to the Shay residence. Time started to move again, and Carly sat up, giving me a smile as she walked out the door.

"I'll meet you down there, Carls," I smiled sadly, wishing I had more time to soak in the peacefulness.

I took one last look at the letter, made my way to the door, and then stared blankly at the room I was about to leave. Freddie called for me, and I awoke from my daze, running down the stairs and laughing as if nothing had just happened. The fact that I had to hide it should have warned.

I should have known that in that moment, something had changed.


End file.
